


Lingerey

by trasharama



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Nanny, Dominant Ben Solo, F/M, Sexting, Smut, ben's got a kid, leia organa is kinda icky lmao, smutty mcsmutsmut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27064675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trasharama/pseuds/trasharama
Summary: Bubbly university student Rey babysits for grumpy hot-shot law partner Ben Solo, and accidentally texts a photo to him of herself clad in lingerie one night. Shenanigans ensue. Smutty McSmutSmut is abound.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 15
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> another twitfic i wrote back in May--my first one, in fact, hence the poorer image quality
> 
> leia is cracky icky in this i cringe lmaooooo
> 
> there's a piece of art that "grayson" ben's son drew that was actually drawn by my little brother and it's incredible and hilarious

*** He's not sure about this at all. His dad's told many stories of Rey working on cars in his shop. Coupled with the photo his parents have of her covered in grease, posing with the Falcon, he can't stop thinking about those dainty hands and what they could do. It's a terrible idea.

*** But his worst idea is obviously texting Poe.

*** Meanwhile, Rey's preparing for a night of hot dogs, finger painting and... who knows what else. She's seen pictures of Grayson, of course. They're everywhere in Leia and Han's home. But Ben? She has no idea what to expect from him, though if his stiff texts are any indication...

*** Grayson is incredible, Rey decides immediately. He's got his dad's mop of black curls, and piercing silver eyes. He's adorable when he shows off his Just Dance moves. It's enough to make her feel safe and at home, and she loves this job suddenly. Even if Solo is kind of a dick.

*** And Ben knows he's no saint. His attempts to keep a distance, even so soon after meeting her, feels disgustingly unnatural. The stern tone he emulates, though, feels far from unnatural. He's picturing it all now: her bent over his knee, whispering dirty admonishments in her ear.

*** Rey knows she's justified in her complaints, but her heart can't help but race when she reads back Solo's sharp texts. She runs through his awkward conversation upon his return home, thinks of the way his suit hugged his body, his giant hands... even if she does complain to Rose.

*** Ben is certainly *not* thinking of Rey in his bedroom. Or in his bed. With him. He would never!

*** Rey gets home at the reasonable hour of 9:25. She's pretty drunk by 10:30. Her claim of "2 glasses of wine" is far from honest. Anything to get that flirty conversation with Solo out of her head--especially considering how rude he'd been when she left for the night.

*** Ben has had his dad's birthday in his calendar for months, but he was always going to decline the invite, of course. He doesn't get along with the extended members of his family, and he knows Rey is probably going to be there, too. That feeling in his stomach, it's dread, right?

*** So maybe Ben's not *nearly* the asshole Rey thought... he's just, shall we call it, emotionally stunted?

*** Rey's face heats up when she reads his messages, and she can't help but smile when he offers her lunch. Plus, I think we all know Ben Solo wasn't on campus to meet his mother.


	2. pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 2

*** Lunch went better than expected. Rey is easy to get along with. She gets sucked into stunning arguments with herself that he is fully content to just observe.

Which is definitely... objectively not good. Horrible, even.

So attending his dad's birthday? Certainly not an option.

*** And Rey is maybe a little too satisfied by her lunch.

*** There's nothing particularly suspicious about Leia's questions about Ben, but Rey knows better, and focuses her response on Grayson. Still, she finds herself wondering if Ben will go to the party, considering he'd never been to a family function that she'd also attended before.

***Okay, so, yeah, maybe being called Mr Solo does something to Ben.

Especially when the title comes from Rey, even with the spelling errors.

Actually--*only* when the title comes from Rey, and *especially with* the spelling errors.

*** Being drunk, Rey decides, is very hard. (So is plot).

*** She doesn't mean to ignore Ben, it's just that Rose obviously needs that picture, like, ASAP. It's a struggle, finagling her heavy limbs through the lace, but the final product is desperately in need of commemoration, even if that means putting hot Ben Swolo on the back burner.

*** Rosie and Ben Swolo are very similar names, aren't they?

*** Like a pac-man trying to escape from ghosts, Ben's thoughts are going a little something like this: "fucking shit she meant to send it to rose but does that matter she sent it to me holy fucking shit she's everything look at her it's RED FUCKING RED am i dead holy fucking shit"

*** The person. The personality.

p.s. Ben leaves Rey on read


	3. pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 3

*** It's not that he doesn't want to respond, it's that he cannot bring himself to. She's obviously at least tipsy. And she didn't mean to send that picture.

But he has it.

He hates himself, but his eyes look again and again. It keeps him up all night. It calls to him all morning.

*** The only thing he wants to do is talk to Rey, but since his thumbs have been rendered unable to do anything but grip his dick, texting isn't an option.

(And big pro-tip, looking for a bottle of unopened whiskey for a father is a great distraction from hot pictures of your nanny)

*** Rey wakes up in a panic, her lingerie still on and drool coating her chin. The time reads 12:23 PM; Han's party started 23 minutes ago. She thanks her sober self for showering last night, pulling on a dress and hustling out the door without so much as a glance at her messages.

*** It isn't until she jumps up on the Organa-Solo's doorstep that she realizes: Grayson?

Grayson Solo, Ben Solo's adorable child, was at the party?

Which could only mean that... *he* was too?

*** And the reality of her drunken past hits her like an avalanche.

*** Fucking Poe Dameron, Ben mutters in his day's mantra. Poe could have saved him from this monstrous woman, this... this *temptress* who crawled out of her lair from nowhere for no reason other than to destroy his sanity. It dominates his thoughts, her pretty skin draped in red.

*** Rey's on a hunt for Ben... but only so she can ask where Grayson is, obvs.


	4. pt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 4

He sees her coming from a mile away, and how could he not? She lights up whatever room she walks into;  _ everyone  _ is powerless to her wake, not just him. 

Somehow, he manages to scurry up the stairs and slam into the bathroom before she spots him. Pressed up against the door with the light still flicked off, he groans at the insistent problem his groin is causing. How has life come to this? Cowering behind a door in his own parents’ home, running away from the girl who sometimes babysits his kid?

Even still, this mess attached to his body needs to be taken care of, so as much as it shames him to admit (and not that he ever would out loud, in any case), the sound of his zipper being pulled down resonates against the walls that confine him to privacy, and he shuffles away from the door to center himself against the rim of the bathtub.

It’s the crease between her thighs and waist that he can’t stop thinking about. Not her tits, which are certainly begging to be plucked by his thumbs, or her pussy, even though his tongue craves a taste. No, what is etched in his mind, thumping like a heartbeat behind his eyelids, is the way her legs curve behind her and up to the delicate base of her hips; the way they’re clearly made to wrap around his torso while he thrusts into her; the way they would undoubtedly tremble, pressed down on his face, his lips and nose and chin. All of it.

He doesn’t even realize he’s tugging at his cock with insistent pressure until there’s a knock at the door, a soft, “Ben?” whispered in an accent, before it opens a crack to let Rey slip inside.

***

“Jesus, Ben, you’re just sitting in here in the dark?” Rey asks, fumbling around for the light switch. The room brightens up. Both of them cringe a little, staring at each other with narrowed eyes, until they adjust completely.

It’s immediate, the way her eyes are called to the crotch of his pants. What’s lying underneath is thick, straining against the denim, a showcase of brute force. She swears she even sees it throbbing a bit, and isn’t that a sight to behold? It makes her mouth literally  _ water _ . That’s never happened to her. Like, ever.

His eyes flick to her shoulder, and she follows her gaze to see that the strap of her dress has slipped to her elbow. What’s fascinating about that, Rey has no idea, but Solo seems unable to look away.

“What is it?” she finally huffs out.

He points like he’s at a loss for words, with a single, thick digit, and says, quietly reverent, “You’re wearing it.”

Of course, she knows as soon as the utterance leaves his mouth what he is talking about. With parted lips and wide eyes, it’s all she can do to straighten up and nod back at him.

Then, as though it’s taking everything he has to contain his energy, his hands bunch into round fists. It’s like a duel, this stand-off they’re performing. A delayment of the inevitable. It was always going to happen, wasn’t it, Rey thinks. The moment she sent that picture, their fates were sealed.

Solo has the same idea, obviously, because he steps forward, closer, boxing her into the door until there’s nowhere for her to step back to. They seem to function better without words; she only has to look up into his eyes to see everything hiding within him.

“It’s fucking tortured me for the last twelve hours, and you  _ wore it here _ .”

***

There’s nothing left to avoid, Ben realizes after the words come out of his mouth. His hand moves without his consent, pressing against the red strap on her shoulder. He’s not imagining it, is he? She’s actually leaned into his touch?

The reality spurns him on more than he wants to admit. Whatever little common sense he had left flew away when he spotted that red strap, there, in front of him, not even centimeters away anymore.

He’s never hated his phone more.

It kept him from this, the real thing; the photo pales in comparison.

Her lips are the softest things in the entire world.

He doesn’t even know how he knows this until he realizes that she’s tugged his face down to hers, and she’s  _ there _ , her tongue is in his  _ mouth _ , and the straps of her dress have fallen away completely, and there she is: a glorious siren, calling to him with bright red lingerie and knock off Birkenstocks.

It’s natural, the way his hand wraps around her waist to pull her against him. He’s known her a week and yet it feels like this was what it always meant to be.

Who can blame him when his fingers creep up to cup her breast? The nipple, it stiffens up instantly, a miniscule mimic of his cock, and fuck him if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever touched. She moans, breathy little thing she is; he muffles it with his own mouth before leaning down to nip at her chest. He pulls the fabric down just enough to catch the bare peak, to make her gasp, to suck at it the way it deserves.

Her hands in his hair, it spurns him on more, until nothing feels satisfactorily close enough. He lifts his head, wraps his hands nearly completely around her hips, and lifts her to the bathroom sink.

***

She didn’t know it could feel like this, sex. Because that’s what they’re doing. They’re having sex.

“I didn’t know if I could do it anymore,” he says as he kisses around her legs from his knees. He looks up at her. “See you, pretend not to find you to be… the most stunning person I’ve ever seen, after seeing that picture.”

She’s about to respond, she really is, but her mind melts into a puddle of goop when his fingers hook inside the gusset of her underwear, pulling it aside with a light nudge to her clit. There’s no way any functioning human, regardless of IQ, could muster up a coherent thought when Ben Solo’s mouth is lapping at their thighs. Not even the Pope could resist the urge to moan for him. 

Ben puts his all into every move; his tongue traces its way through the lips of her pussy, flicking at her opening, closing around her clit, sucking at the crease of her thighs. He seems fully incapable of choosing a spot to focus on, like he’s overwhelmed by the choices of skin and body parts.  _ She _ is certainly overwhelmed by it all; her peak is nearing, and he’s barely touched her.

“Please,” she finds herself begging in a voice she barely recognizes. “Ben, please, I want to cum on your cock, not like this.”

There’s no response from him until she tugs at his hair, pulling him up. He’s panting, and sweating, and his mouth is glistening in the unforgiving light of the bathroom, but Rey swears to everything holy that she has never seen a more beautiful human. 

***

Ben could go his entire life tasting nothing but Rey’s pussy. He’s never felt so earnest in a claim before, and he’s an elite lawyer. His whole job,  _ supposedly _ , is to help people.

“You want to cum on my cock?” he whispers, resting his forehead on hers.

She nods back, puckers her lips, and presses them against his, once, twice, three times, before unwrapping an arm from around his neck and rubbing a hand against his clothed cock. He almost has to step back, he’s so sensitive, but he’s also fairly certain that he’ll go into cardiac arrest if she doesn’t keep going. He distracts himself by reaching for a drawer at the sink, pulling out a foil packet.

“I grew up here, you know,” he reminds her when she giggles. “I know all the hiding spots.”

“Fun scavenger hunt,” she quips back. “Get it on.”

It’s not typically a sexy act, unrolling a condom onto a dick; but Ben is pretty sure that any act with Rey would be sexy. She could say she loves  _ The Big Bang Theory  _ and he’d still fuck her if she asked for it.

***

She’s panting for him. She  _ needs _ him. 

He can’t keep her waiting.

So he goes forward, spreads the tip of his dick against her pussy, listening to the way her breaths expand and collapse, before pressing himself inside her, more, more,  _ more _ . He bottoms out, and she squeaks out an impressively quiet whimper.

“Keep going, Ben.”

He rubs two fingers at her clit while he experiments with thrusts. The way her head falls back gives him complete access to her neck; he sucks at it with a desperation he’s never felt before, focusing on the feeling of being inside of her, reveling in the heat and silk and force of it all.

It happens before he’s registered it fully, her orgasm. It comes out of nowhere, crashes into him like a shooting star. It whites out everything in existence except for her, for Rey, whose face is scrunched up and mouth open in a silent gasp. She’s clenched around him and it’s too much, and he follows behind her, quick and furious and--

It’s over too soon.

But her smile, that satisfied, sleepy, sated smile… makes him realize that it’ll be happening again.


	5. pt 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 5

*** Leia's such a snoop. Serves her right!

*** Ben's texting etiquette will never change. He hopes Rey's won't, either. Her little hearts and smiley faces bring a warmth to his chest that is totally unfamiliar in contexts outside of his son. He hopes she never stops sending them (or photos of herself in lingerie, of course).


End file.
